So, It’s 8:20 in the morning, and my daughter is still sleeping. She woke up once, but with a quick re-insert of the pacifier went back to sleep.<\/p>\n
We’ve set the day for my return to work. It’s earlier that I absolutely -have- to return, but it seems to make sense. Everything is going well, so it seems there is no reason to take the last 3 and a half weeks off.<\/p>\n
But I am suddenly once again all nervous about it. She’s fine, but am I ready? In a way I think that going to work, driving away for 9 or 10 hours will be easier than taking care of her all day. But then, I will have to think about her and miss her.<\/p>\n
I will leave her in Chris’s care, and he’ll do okay with her. He’ll do it differently than I will, but that will be okay. Especially if I am not there to hide around the corner and fret about it. But it’s hard work and I fear that Chris is not prepared for it. Until you\u00a0experience the all-day-ness of it, you just don’t know how hard it is. I fear that he will resent her and me and I will lose him.<\/p>\n
It’s 28 days, a span that is both immediate and an eternity. She’s still sleeping. It’s only when she is asleep that I have concentrated time to worry. She’ll wake soon and then will begin the round of incredibly small things that fill the days. And the days will pass.<\/p>\n
I know it doesn’t pay to worry. I’ve done a good job so far, and she is healthy and growing well. It’s just me that has the problem.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
So, It’s 8:20 in the morning, and my daughter is still sleeping. She woke up once, but with a quick re-insert of the pacifier went back to sleep. We’ve set the day for my return to work. It’s earlier that … Continue reading